


Rock Doves

by Elsinore_and_Inverness



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Assassins Guild, Child Havelock, Epistolary, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:08:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28799601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsinore_and_Inverness/pseuds/Elsinore_and_Inverness
Summary: I feel that I am missing somewhere that does not exist. Somewhere I am going to have to create.
Relationships: Roberta Meserole & Havelock Vetinari
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Rock Doves

Dear Madam,

I would like to apologize for the infrequency of letters of late. I have been, though I am loathe to admit to there being limits to my intellectual stamina, overwhelmed with schoolwork. I have gratifyingly reached a point where assignments are not prescriptively circumscribed and I feel I can, as they say, ‘stretch my wings.’

I have a new mailbox in the college as I am no longer housed with Scorpion House. Through the window outside I can see the palace across the street. Pigeons drop off the roof and start flying after falling twenty feet. I can see that they were once cliff-dwelling birds. I can imagine that I am up in a nest with rock doves. Suspended in the air, tucked into the web of this place. Winder had spikes up there to keep them off the roof. We’ve been pulling them down at the weekends, preferring the sight of guano to hostile architecture.

Though I am very grateful for having my own space—after two and a half years I had not realized that I was uncomfortable changing in front of the others though I was a subject of commentary—I am somewhat alarmed at realizing that I am often going days without speaking or lighting the candles ~~and struggling with—~~

I feel that I am missing somewhere that does not exist. Somewhere I am going to have to create.

I am learning pianoforte. It is not a sensuous instrument. Perhaps I am not approaching it correctly.

Jasmine and witch hazel are blooming in the garden below. Parrots have escaped from the menagerie. They’re attacking street dogs. I think I hate Lord Winder. 

Thank you for the goats’ wool gloves. They are a gods’ send in these months.

Ti voglio bene e mi manchi.

Sincerely,

Havelock Vetinari


End file.
